


Finding Safety

by Periazhad



Series: pack [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternate Universe - Wolves, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dick Grayson is Robin, Dick is a pup, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason is a pup, Pack, Pack Feels, Panic Attacks, Wolf Pack, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:55:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29699493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periazhad/pseuds/Periazhad
Summary: When Jason sees the gleaming Batmobile, though, he pauses. Batman isn’t going hungry. He’s clearly got more than enough money. Jason still hesitates, afraid of getting caught, but then a chill wind blows, cutting right through his coat.He’s on the third tire when a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He’d been keeping an ear open for him, but apparently Batman’s soundless approach has not been overstated.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: pack [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178348
Comments: 52
Kudos: 406
Collections: Jason Todd Steals the Batmobile Tires





	Finding Safety

**Author's Note:**

> I was surprised by the intensity of the love for shifter aus in the comments for Remember Flight, and was glad I had another two (three?) mostly done for y'all. I hate titles. I hate coming up with them, and I hate how dumb they sound. So just never talk about them.
> 
> As always, Ise held my grammar-deficient hand and gave me thoughtful feedback.

Jason’s alone, with only memories. His mom taught him to think of others, and to be careful, but kind. Without knowing it, she taught him to rely only on himself and to not trust anyone. His dad taught him how to steal tires and where to fence them. But also how to see a punch coming and when to get far away from someone in a temper. They both taught him to never, ever let anyone know he’s a wolf.

When his dad died in prison, it was a relief. When his mom died, he shifted and howled his grief. The neighbors came to the door, shouting and banging, and he jumped out the window. He doesn’t know how long he crept around as a wolf, wrapped in grief, but he’s grateful no one caught him before he came to senses. He vowed to never shift again on the streets; it’s far too dangerous, and no one will even miss him if he gets snatched.

If he finds himself missing shifting, Jason firmly reminds himself not to be stupid. He has more important things to worry about, like food, warmth, and safety. He doesn’t have time to sit around, feeling sorry for himself. He tells himself to  _ grow up. _ He’s alone, now, and has to take care of himself. Shifting won’t do anything good for him.

Jason hasn’t stolen since his mom died. He still carries a tire iron, but it’s just for protection. He doesn’t like stealing; most people don’t have enough for themselves, and he doesn’t want to make someone else go hungry. When his mom’s life was on the line, Jason focused on getting her healthy and pretended he didn’t care about anyone else. Now that it’s just him, he refuses to steal.

When he sees the gleaming Batmobile, though, he pauses. Batman isn’t going hungry. He’s clearly got more than enough money. Jason still hesitates, afraid of getting caught, but then a chill wind blows, cutting right through his coat.

He’s on the third tire when a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He’d been keeping an ear open for him, but apparently Batman’s soundless approach has not been overstated.

Jason hasn’t let an adult touch him in eight months, not since his mom died. It doesn’t matter that this is Batman, because everyone knows Batman doesn’t care about kids in Crime Alley. If he did, he’d do something to protect them. But he doesn’t protect them, and Jason knows of a few kids Batman “helped” into foster care, right into trafficking. Batman didn’t even seem to notice it was the same kids when he busted a trafficking ring a month later, because he sent all the kids right back into foster care.

Jason is as good as already trafficked if he can’t get away. “Let me go!” He frantically tries to twist away. “Let me  _ go!” _ He pulls harder, but can’t get free. 

“What’s your name?” The deep voice makes him freeze for a moment, and then he tries to pull free again.

“What’s it to ya?” Jason automatically snaps back, yanking harder, and then wishes he hadn’t snapped. If he cooperates, maybe Batman will let him go. There’s a pause while he waits for Batman to shake him, or yell at him, or maybe just backhand him. 

When the silence stretches, he mutters, “Jason.”

“Well, Jason, it seems someone has taken some of my tires. Do you know where they are?” 

Jason glances at the tire iron in his hand, and then back up to Batman. Did he really not see Jason taking them off? He grabbed Jason right in the middle of it.

“I might know. What’s it to ya?” Just roll with it, right? Maybe Batman thought he was just inspecting the tires. Carefully. With a tire iron.

“Well, I thought perhaps if you were able to help me locate them, and help put them back on—” Now it’s Batman’s turn to glance meaningful at the tire iron. “—I could buy you a hot meal.” 

Jason thinks it over, aware of the firm grip Batman still has on his shoulder. For all the horrible things that happen to kids in foster care, Batman never seems to be the one to actually  _ hurt _ them. Well, no one ever sees it happen or talks about it, so it must not happen a lot. Of course, it still happens. That’s just what adults do.

It’s probably safe to accept a hot meal, and it gives him more time to avoid being handed off to social services.

“I can do that for ya. The tires are in the alley over there.” He points with the hand not holding the tire iron. Batman doesn’t let go of him. Jason fidgets under the restraining hand and says, “Ya gonna let go? S’hard to get the tires on if I can’t go get ‘em.”

There’s a moment, long enough for a thrill of fear to run up his spine at the idea that Batman might  _ not _ let him go, might keep him and hurt him and—the hand lifts off his shoulder, and Jason feels lighter. He considers running, but without the tires he has no way to get money, and he’s  _ hungry _ . He can figure out a way to run after the meal.

\---

The Crispy Biscuit isn’t far away, and, even with the tires back on the car, Batman suggests they walk. Jason relaxes when he realizes he doesn’t have to get into the car. Yet.

He knows what usually happens to street kids in cars.

Jason eyes Batman carefully as he orders a bacon burger, but Batman just puts in an order for fries and a milkshake. He smiles at Jason as they sit at a table, saying, “Robin’s going to be jealous he missed this; he loves their milkshakes.”

Scuffing his shoe on the floor, Jason doesn’t know what to say. If Robin was here, Batman probably wouldn’t be feeding him at all. Between the two of them, they’d have handled the tires and bundled Jason off to social services before he could even think of running. 

He shivers a little at the thought, and Batman frowns at him and waves a waitress over. “Could we get an order of hot chocolate, please?” She bustles off and Batman says, “Their hot chocolate will help you warm up.”

His mom made hot chocolate for him a few times, on special occasions, but it’s nothing compared to this hot chocolate. Rich, dark, sweet, and  _ warm. _ Jason drinks it a little too fast. 

When he sets the cup down, Batman wordlessly hands him a napkin. Jason swipes at his mouth, but Batman says, “You have whipped cream on your nose.” Blushing, because he can hear the smile in Batman’s voice, he cleans his nose off as the waitress brings over their food.

For a few minutes, he doesn’t even remember he’s with Batman. The food is delicious and Jason hasn’t been able to eat his fill for a long, long time. He glances up when Batman slides the fries over, saying, “They’re for you, too.” 

It was a big enough risk to order a fancy burger; Jason hadn’t dared try to for anything else. He wordlessly takes the plate of fries and keeps eating. 

When he finishes, he glances around uneasily. Should he run now? All Batman promised him was a hot meal, and Jason got one, so it’s time to leave.

Putting down money, Batman says, “Let’s go.”

Bolting away when Batman just fed him seems something like his mom would have scolded him for, so Jason walks out with him. They can go their separate ways, and it will be fine.

Jason stops when he sees the Batmobile waiting for them. He stares at it a second too long, because Batman’s hand clamps down on his shoulder. He twists, but the door is opening automatically and Batman shoves him inside.

Jason throws himself backwards, only the door is already shut. He scrambles for the handle, but the door still won’t open. He’s locked, in the back of a car. Batman could do  _ anything  _ to him, could take him  _ anywhere. _ Jason’s so much smaller, so much weaker, and Jason won’t be able to stop him. His breathing comes faster and faster, and he looks around in a panic. He has to get  _ out. _

He had a chance to run, but he was stupid and wanted to be  _ polite, _ and now he’s trapped, and it’s going to hurt and—the front door opens, and Jason presses himself back into the seats. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Jason, but you can’t keep living on the streets.”

Jason wants to say it’s safer than anywhere Batman could take him, wants to spit at him that he doesn’t want or need any of his pity, or misguided  _ help, _ but his throat is too tight. He stares at Batman, mute with horror, as the car drives automatically.

He can see that Batman is trying to talk to him, but he can’t hear anything over the rushing of panic in his ears. He doesn’t even realize they’ve stopped until he hears the front door slam closed. He flinches at the sound, because Batman’s going to come around for Jason, going to drag him out, or just push his way into the back now that they’re somewhere private. Jason looks around frantically, desperate for someone to come and save him, and sees that they’re at the police station.

His stomach swoops; now it won’t just be Batman doing—and Jason getting to go free when it’s over. Batman is going to put him into foster care, and then the traffickers will get him, and it won’t be just one time in the back of a car, it will be over and over, and there will be no escape.

The door to the back opens and, without intending, he shifts into a wolf. He hasn’t panic shifted since he was a toddler, and he shifts back immediately, but Batman is staring at him from the open door.

His mom told him, she  _ told him, _ to never let anyone know he was a wolf pup. They’re worth a lot of money, she said, and he heard his dad saying they’re good as a pack bitch or maybe a guard dog. He doesn’t want to be either of those things.

If it were anyone else but Batman, he’d just shove his way out of the car and  _ run _ , but it’s Batman, he’s got armor and training and—

“I’m not—I’m _not_ a pup.” Jason can hear his voice is shaking. “P–Please don’t sell me. Just—just put me into foster care; I don’t care if I get trafficked. Just —I’m _not a pup!”_ His voice cracks, and tears spill down his face.

\---

Bruce stares at the boy, the  _ pup, _ in the back of the Batmobile, trying to make sense of his words. He doesn’t care if he gets trafficked or put into foster care?

After the social workers and police let Bruce take Dick home from the circus, both Bruce Wayne and Batman cleaned up a lot of corruption. Most of the social workers are clean, and that means the foster homes have proper oversight. No child should be getting trafficked from foster care.

With a sinking sensation, he wonders if anyone looked over the foster homes the corrupt social workers had approved. When he recalls how often Batman drops kids at the police station, only to later find them in trafficking rings, he feels sick. The victims were listed as runaways, so he thought the streets weren’t safe, and he tried to get as many kids as possible into the safety of foster care. Now, he realizes they probably weren’t all runaways.

Has he been  _ bringing _ the traffickers children?

It was stupidly naive, assuming the foster homes did their best and the kids ran away regardless. His plans for the next few months crystallize, but he sets them aside, focusing on the pup in the backseat of his car.

No foster care, especially not for a wolf pup. What can he say to comfort him? “I’m going to take you somewhere safe.” The weight of the police station behind him, no promise of safety to this pup, he adds, “Not here. I personally know a foster family. They’re a pack; you’ll be safe.”

Jason goes white under his tears. “N—not a pack,  _ please _ Batman,” he begs. “Not a pack. Just put me in foster care; not a pack!”

They can’t keep standing in front of the police station; someone will come out soon. “One moment, Jason.” He circles back around to the front of the car, climbing inside and directing it to head back to the Cave. 

Jason has pressed himself back in a corner, knees to his chest, hands over his face, shaking. 

“Jason, I promise, they’re safe.” Pups need to be in a pack.

“You were gonna put me in  _ foster care _ and tell me  _ that’s _ safe.” It’s a little muffled but his point is made. “And now I’m supposed to believe a  _ pack  _ is safe?” He raises his head, light glinting off his tears as the car smoothly glides under street lights. His voice is shockingly venemous for such a small pup “I’m not stupid. I know a pack that would take in a pup from the streets only wants two things: a bitch or a guard.”

Bruce flinches, feeling nauseous. Some packs, some people, force wolves to shift through drugs. Even feral, shifted wolves are smarter than actual wolves. They have a sense of weapons, human tricks, even when they can’t shift back to a human anymore. Since they’re used as guard dogs, that’s what people call them.

“I’m not going to let that happen to you.” Bruce’s voice is steel.

This little pup thinks he’s going to be raped or drugged, or both. Bruce wants to go in the back seat, wrap Jason up, and promise to keep him safe. If only Jason would let him get that close.

Jason glares at him. “You may be stupid enough to think that, but I know better.”

With what Bruce has just learned of foster care, he can hardly blame Jason. 

“Do you think  _ I  _ will hurt you?” He finds himself holding his breath, apprehensive of the answer.

A silence. Jason eventually glances away, shrugging, and says, “Probably not on purpose.”

His answer could have been worse. “Would you like to come and stay with me?” 

Bruce already feels the same pull that led him to take Dick home. A homeless, orphaned pup who needs him; one way or another, he’s bringing Jason home. Dick would probably love to snuggle this little pup. Bruce’s wolf whispers,  _ mine. _

At least Bruce Wayne is already a registered foster parent. It would be a lot harder to bribe the social workers, this time. 

Jason’s face is unreadable, but he slowly nods.

—

Jason knows he doesn’t have any good options. Batman doesn’t seem inclined to put him in foster care now that he knows Jason is a pup, but that doesn’t mean much. Maybe he’s planning on selling him to the traffickers himself, or to this “safe” pack. Maybe Batman really is dumb enough to think there is a safe pack.

If Batman takes Jason for himself...Jason thinks about Robin. Robin is out more nights than not, and doesn’t seem to be injured. Jason’s seen kids on the streets, walking funny and bruised up after an adult got their hands on them. Robin doesn’t look injured, at least not on the nights he’s out. Batman must treat him gently some of the time.

That little bit of hope is better than nothing.

Once he agrees, Batman turns away and makes a call. “Agent A? I’m bringing a guest back to the Cave. Will you wake up Robin?” 

Jason’s stomach lurches; he has to meet Robin right away? Is Batman going to get rid of Robin, now that he’s got Jason? And who is Agent A?

“Yes, I know he’s got that field trip tomorrow, but I think he should be there when I get back.”

Batman turns back to Jason and says, “I’m glad you decided to come with me.”

It’s not like Jason has a choice. It’s not as though he’s  _ ever _ had a choice, in any part of his life. Why would this be any different?

Scowling down at the seat, Jason doesn’t respond, and silence fills the car. When Jason finally looks up, there’s a huge wolf in the front seat.

There’s a  _ wolf _ in the front seat.  _ Batman  _ is a  _ wolf. _

Everything suddenly seems much worse.

“You want  _ me  _ in your  _ pack?” _ Jason’s voice cracks a little. The wolf nods.

On the streets he was willing to die rather than whore himself out, but he’d rather be a pack bitch than a guard dog. Forgetting about being human, drugged to be a wolf until he can’t even  _ remember _ he was a person, that would be worse than whoring, worse than dying. 

Batman would have plenty of uses for a guard. Jason showed him the need for someone to guard his car by  _ stealing the tires, _ like an idiot. And then Jason showed Batman how he could be useful to him, by shifting. Tears spring to his eyes at his complete stupidity, forcing him into a choice that’s no choice at all.

“Is Robin a wolf, too?” He can’t look away as the giant wolf gracefully nods again.

That’s his only hope. Robin is a wolf, in the pack, and is treated well enough.

Jason will need to pay attention, see what Robin does, and try to be like him. He can deal with—he can deal with it. He doesn’t want to give Batman any reason to drug him, or sell him off. This is his best option, and he’s going to make it work.

\---

He’s been with the Wayne pack for three weeks, and the other shoe hasn’t fallen yet. Despite having been given his own room, he follows Dick’s lead and often sleeps in the main den with both of them. The first night, when Dick showed him the main den and cheerfully explained it was “the best place to sleep,” Jason was prepared for the worst. Dick just shifted and jumped up onto the bed.

Bruce said, “You can, of course, sleep in your room if you’re not comfortable here.” Then he shifted and pressed up next to Dick. Jason froze, just staring, because a pack cuddle pile wasn’t what he expected. Why would Bruce bring home two kids, two  _ pups, _ for that? But he wants to get the same treatment Dick does, doesn’t want to be sold or drugged, or even just beaten. He has no choice but to shift and join them.

He didn’t expect it to be so warm, or feel so comforting. He’d forgotten, on the streets, what it was like to sleep in a den with other wolves. His mom was always warm and calming, and he liked it when his dad was a wolf because then he didn’t hurt them. His parents couldn’t shift often, because if people realized they were wolves, someone would have definitely snatched and sold Jason, and maybe even sold his parents. He half wondered, sometimes, if his dad was protecting his wolf status just to sell Jason himself someday. His dad certainly didn’t seem to love him the way his mom did.

The few nights he spent sleeping shifted with his parents doesn’t compare to the safety he feels sharing a den with _ Batman. _ The large alpha wolf somehow curls up around both pups, and Jason’s wolf knows that means safety. He can push aside the human knowledge that he’s here for a reason, that he’ll have to earn his keep once he settles in. Instead, the wolf revels in the deep, instinctive safety of being in a den protected by a powerful alpha.

\---

Dick shifts easily, whenever he wants, and Jason tries to do the same, pretending he hasn’t spent his entire life hiding his wolf. He’s finding he enjoys being in wolf form, especially when they go out into the woods. No wonder Dick hasn’t used his Robin skills and run away; whatever happens in the bedroom when Jason isn’t there is almost certainly worth everything. Woods for play, a huge house for shelter, clean clothes to wear, and all the food he can eat. Jason finds he’s almost desperate to prove he can stay. 

One night Batman and Robin are out late, and Jason ends up falling asleep in his own bed by accident. He meant to stay awake, waiting for them, waiting in his room for the nightly invitation to the main den.

He wakes up, confused and panicked, and creeps down to breakfast to find nothing has changed. Dick doesn’t look like Bruce had hurt him, or taken out his anger at Jason’s absence, or even just taken advantage of Jason’s absence to do...whatever it is they do. No one even comments on the fact that he slept alone in his room.

So, maybe it was fine to sleep alone, but Jason finds himself reluctant to forgo the warmth and safety. Wolves aren’t  _ meant _ to den alone. He hadn’t really thought about it while trying to survive on the streets, but now that a pack den was right down the hall, he can’t give it up. He also needs to be just like Dick, so Bruce won’t hurt him too badly, or sell him off for being too much trouble.

Eventually, Bruce won’t shift into a wolf each night and everything would change. It’s not like he was any safer in his own room. Lock or no lock, Bruce was  _ Batman,  _ and would probably break down the door, if needed, when it was time for Jason to pay his dues.

Each week that passes with Bruce doing nothing increases Jason’s unease. He watches Dick carefully, and tries to mimic him, but Bruce never asks Jason for  _ anything, _ other than stupid things like passing the salt or handing him a book.

He wonders if he needs to start training to be able to help Bruce in Gotham, but both Bruce and Alfred insist he needs more time before he can push his body like that. Dick shows him some easy stretches, but it is clear Jason’s body would never be as flexible as Dick’s. 

If he’s not pleasing enough, what will Bruce do? Surely not kick him back out on the streets, since he went through all this trouble of bringing Jason home and exposing his identity. If Bruce never—if he doesn’t want—then they’re just waiting for Jason to get a bit stronger before they start drugging him or sell him.

In desperation, he cuddles up to Bruce both as a boy and a pup. Bruce welcomes him, always, but never takes what Jason is trying to offer.

\---

Dick loves having a little pup for a brother. He loves Bruce, he really does, but a larger pack is always better. It’s been six years since he left the circus, and, while he doesn’t exactly miss it anymore, the Manor has always been a little too big and empty for him. Another pup is just what was needed.

Jason is willing to play with him, explore the woods, and snuggle. He’s still anxious, thin, and too pale, but they’re working on it. It must have been awful living on the streets; of course he’d be twitchy after that. And Bruce said the foster homes are just trafficking fronts, but he doesn’t want Robin to help out with that. He’d rather Dick stay home, bond with Jason, and help out on the simpler cases.

Dick would rather do that, too. He knows there’s a darker side to Gotham that Bruce keeps him from, but what Bruce lets him do keeps him busy enough. As long as he’s helping people, he’s fine with Bruce shielding him. Some of the things he’s seen already are bad enough.

Jason’s been with them about two months when an afternoon comes where Dick can’t find him. He wants to play in the woods, and Jason’s always so much fun in the woods. But Jason’s not in the kitchen, not in the library, not anywhere that Dick can find. He checks Jason’s room one last time, and cracks the door just to be sure when no one answers his knock. Maybe Jason’s just really deeply asleep? He did that, the first few weeks, and Bruce and Alfred said his body was finally releasing all the stress he’d built up on the streets.

So he cracks the door, just to be sure, and hears a quiet sniffling sound.

“Jason?” He pushes the door all the way open, and Jason scrambles to his feet from a blanket and pillow filled corner. Dick realizes he must have made a temporary den, but doesn’t understand why he didn’t just use the bed. 

“Jason, are you okay? I’ve been looking for you all over; have you been here the whole time?”

Jason wipes his face as he says, “I—I’m fine, I must not have heard you knocking.”

Bruce trained Dick to spot a lie, because it’s useful as Robin, but no one needs training to see that Jason is lying. His face is blotchy and red, and his hands are shaking. He won’t meet Dick’s eyes, and he’s pressed into the corner of his room. Jason is  _ not _ fine.

Dick isn’t sure what to do. Bruce is gone for the afternoon, so it’s up to him to comfort their littlest pup. The way Jason is shaking, holding himself back, he’s going to have to be careful.

“What—what did you want?” Even Jason’s voice is shaky.

Dick takes a careful step into the room and quietly says, “You’ve been crying.” He wants to run and wrap Jason up, but he holds himself back.

“Yeah, Dickie, I do that sometimes,” Jason snaps, and then instantly hunches his shoulders.

Dick edges a little further into the room, asking, “Can I help? I cry, too, and sometimes it helps to have someone with you.”

Jason looks at him warily and asks, “Why do you cry?”

Why? Jason hasn’t been here that long, but he knows what happened to Dick’s parents, knows Dick was there, so why wouldn’t Dick cry sometimes? Bruce cried for years over his parents, he told them both.

Dick makes it to the bed and takes a seat, settling on simply saying, “I miss my parents.”

“Is that all?”

Isn’t that enough? Dick wants to snap back, but can’t shake the sense he’s missing something. Jason doesn’t seem to be asking to be cruel, he seems like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Should there be something else?” 

“You don’t need to  _ hide _ it from me. I’m  _ here _ , I’m staying. Whatever else happens, it’s worth being here.” He sounds almost angry.

Dick thinks he’s missing an important part of the conversation.

“Do you mean what happens when I go out as Robin? If I get hurt?”

“No!” Jason takes a step away from the wall and clenches his fists. “Stop pretending. I  _ know _ what happens when I’m not there, Dick. I know what Bruce does to you.”

Now Dick knows he’s missing something. What Bruce does to him?

“And I’ve  _ tried _ to be just like you, but he won’t—he won’t  _ do _ anything, and I don’t—Dick, I don’t want to be  _ sold.” _ Shocked, Dick sees Jason is crying again. 

“Jason, no one is going to sell you!” He may not know what Jason is talking about, but Bruce doesn’t sell people. He’s Batman!

“That’s  _ worse, _ then. Please, Dick, tell me how to get him to like me. I don’t want—I want to be  _ me, _ not just drugged until I can’t—can’t remember how to be a person. Please, Dick,  _ please.” _

In a flash, Dick is in the makeshift den with Jason, wrapping his arms around the younger boy. It’s only four years, but it seems like much more when Jason feels so small. He’s shaking, wrapping his arms around Dick tightly, begging, “Please, Dick,  _ please. _ You have to help me. Don’t let him—”

Dick rubs his arms soothingly across Jason’s back, hushing him, wishing he wasn’t putting the pieces together. He knew that some people bought wolf pups just to force them to stay shifted and used them as guards. It was—it was  _ obscene, _ and Batman never allowed it, and now there’s a pup in his pack who thinks that it’s going to happen to him?

He needs Bruce to fix this. When Jason’s sobbing slows down, Dick says, “Let me go get some water, ok Jason? I promise, I’ll help you, I’ll do whatever you need. But you need water.” Dick needs to call Bruce.

Jason lets go of him slowly, reluctantly, and scrubs his face. “You’ll really help?” His voice is hoarse and Dick’s heart breaks.

“Of course, Jason. I promise. You’re going to be okay.” He gives Jason one last hug, slips out of the room, and  _ runs  _ to the nearest phone.

“Pick up, pick  _ up,” _ Dick chants, fidgeting anxiously.

“Dick?” Dick closes his eyes, knees weak with the rush of relief. “You know I’m—”

“Jason is crying because he thinks you’re going to sell him or drug him, because you haven’t touched him like you do me, and I’m thinking I know what that means, and I don’t like it _at all,_ but he’s not going to _believe_ me, and he’s crying and crying, and he made a den in his room, and I don’t think I can fix it by myself, he needs you, ok? He _really_ needs you.” Dick feels his eyes sting, and swallows quickly.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, okay, Dick? Just, stay with him if you can and reassure him.” Bruce’s voice is calm, but Dick knows Bruce must be dropping everything to rush home.

“Yeah, Bruce, of course, he let me into his den and I think—I promised to help, but you don’t—I can’t  _ help _ him, not the way he wants.” Dick’s voice cracks but Bruce’s voice washes over him.

“You’ve got this, Dick. You will know what to do. I’m hanging up now, but you’ve  _ got this.” _

His alpha thinks he’s got this, Batman thinks he’s got this, so he’s going to handle this. He gets halfway back to Jason’s room, and has to run back for a glass of water.

Jason is buried in the den, a wolf pup now, and Dick sets the water down before he shifts to join him, offering wordless comfort in the face of Jason’s overwhelming grief and terror. He licks the tiny pup, and presses close, trying to make him feel safe.

\---

He knows he needs to shift back. He needs to talk to Dick about—but his mind shies away from it, and he presses closer to Dick. The bigger pup promised to help, so he’s not going to be sold or drugged, just—

It’s always easier as the wolf to not think. He’s trying to not whine, but whenever he loses the battle Dick just licks him until he stops. He’s so lost in not thinking, he doesn’t hear footsteps until the door is opening. He jerks up, all the way, shifting back into a human before he realized what he was doing.

Bruce can’t be here; Dick hasn’t told him what to do, what to say, how to win Bruce over. His eyes are wide with panic, and he glances at Dick, who’s shifted back and is standing in front of him protectively. Dick can’t keep him safe from Bruce, even if he’s Robin. Bruce is  _ Batman, _ he’s the  _ alpha _ , and—and Jason doesn’t know what to do.

He bursts into tears, helpless and terrified. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t sell me, I’m  _ sorry!  _ Dick is gonna tell me how to be better, and then I know you’ll want me,  _ please.  _ Don’t sell me!”

“Shh,” Dick says, coming up and hugging him. “No one is selling you, Jason. I called Bruce to come home to help.”

Jason stiffens in Dick’s arms. They’re going to—right now? Dick wants to show him, with Bruce, and then—

“Right now?” He asks out loud, and wishes he could take it back. He’s been here for  _ weeks _ , it’s been long enough, right now isn’t even a big deal. He pushes his face into Dick’s shoulder, trying not to shake.

“Jason.” That’s Bruce’s voice, and Jason hadn’t even heard him get so close, but he’s kneeling right in front of Jason’s pitiful den. Jason flinches away, without meaning, and prays no one punishes him for it. He can’t flinch away, he’s about to learn just how to—

“I told you would be safe here. You know I hadn’t realized the foster homes were so corrupted, but that’s why I brought you here. To be  _ safe. _ You don’t have to do anything.” 

Bruce’s voice is warm, and comforting, but it’s a  _ lie. _ No one gets something for nothing, especially not in a pack. Especially not when he doesn’t really  _ belong _ to the pack, he wasn’t born into it, he has to pay his way.

“I’ve been here long enough.” Jason’s voice is so rough it surprises even him, but he has to say it. He lifts his head to look right at Bruce and swallows. “You don’t have to worry about me wantin’ to stay. I like it here, and Dick doesn’t ever seem to be really hurt, so it’s better than anywhere else. But I know there’s always a price.”

Dick tightens his arms around Jason. “Jason, no, Bruce doesn’t ever touch me like that. Not  _ ever. _ Not when you’re not here, not before you came to the Manor, not  _ ever.” _

“There is no price you have to pay to be here, Jason.” Bruce is still kneeling, looking right at him. “You’re a child, and it’s my job to provide you what you need. You don’t owe me anything, for any of it.”

Jason hears them, and the anger comes back. He shoves Dick off and hisses, “ _Stop. Lying._ What’s the point of painting a pretty picture that’s a _lie_? I’m here! I’m ready, I’m willing, so why don’t you just _fuck_ _me_ already?” The word hangs in the air between them all.

Dick looks drawn and pale, almost in tears himself, but Bruce just watches Jason with steady eyes.

“Just do it, Bruce.” Jason didn’t know he could sound so tired. “Please, just get it over with. I don’t want to be sold, or drugged. I want to stay. I like it here. Just  _ fuck _ me.” He has a bitter taste in his mouth, but he’s finally said it. 

Dick says, “Jason—” and reaches for him, but Jason steps away. His eyes are locked on Bruce. He doesn’t need or want Dick to get between them.

Bruce is still looking at him. “Jason, I’m never going to touch you sexually. Never.”

Dick is glancing between the two of them, but Jason barely notices.

_ Never _ echoes in his mind.

“Then...you’re going to sell me?” He slowly asks.

“No, I’m never going to sell you or touch you sexually.”

Jason trembles a little, and says, “So I’m to be a guard, then?   
  


Dick makes a wordless noise of protest, but Bruce steadily says, “No. No one is drugging you, or touching you sexually, or selling you. This is your home, as long as you wish it, with no price attached. You are a child, and you deserve to be safe.”

Jason doesn’t understand.

“But—” He doesn’t know what to say. Dick steps close, and Jason is too frozen, too confused to think to move away. Dick sets a hand on his shoulder, and Jason turns to him as if in a dream. “Dick, this doesn’t make sense. Everyone wants something.”

Dick’s face twists up, and then he’s hugging Jason tightly. Tears flow down Jason’s face, like Dick’s hug is forcing them out, and he can’t even hug Dick back.

Large, warm arms wrap around both of them, but Jason is going numb. He can’t process _ —everyone wants something— _ and to be told he’s safe, he’s finally found a place where no one wants anything. He’s trying to realize he’s never going to be sold, or drugged, or—or used.

“I don’t understand,” he says, helplessly.

Bruce hugs them both a little tighter. “You will, Jason. I’ll tell you as many times as you need me to say it. You’re safe here. No one wants anything from you, except for you to be safe and healthy.”

Warmth is trickling through the shocked numbness. He’s safe. He’s  _ safe. _ He’s really, truly safe.

He’s found a pack, a pack that wants to keep him  _ safe _ . It’s a fairy tale, a dream, an unimagined impossibility suddenly realized.

He starts crying in earnest, but the tears feel like they’re cleansing him of every fear, every evil thought, every wrong expectation.

And when they finish, he’s still safe. Still warm. Still held in the embrace of his pack.

\---

Jason is shifted, cuddled up and asleep, on the bed of the main den. Dick pressed up against him until he slept, Bruce curled up behind both of them. Dick should be sleeping, too, but he can’t.

He tries to creep away unnoticed, but his alpha pins him with one golden eye. He backs up a little further and shifts back to human. Jason keeps sleeping.

Bruce shifts back, as well. “What’s wrong?” A whisper; neither of them would disturb Jason for anything.

Dick just shrugs. Leaving one hand on Jason, Bruce holds out an inviting arm. Dick tucks himself in, but can’t find the words.

“It was hard for you to see Jason so afraid.” Bruce’s voice is soft and calm, trying to soothe Dick.

Dick nods.

“You know I would never hurt him.”

“Of course not!” Dick’s voice is too loud, and he glances over at Jason guiltily. He never,  _ ever _ thought that. Bruce isn’t like that, no matter what anyone thinks.

“But Bruce…” He trails off, gathering his thoughts while Bruce’s warmth spreads through him. “Why would Jason think that? On the streets, I get not trusting anyone. But he’s been here for  _ weeks _ . He’s in our pack. Did we do—did we do something wrong?”  _ Did I do something wrong? _

Bruce drops a quick kiss on his head and pulls him in closer. “Sweetie, no. You know we didn’t do anything wrong, other than maybe not being clear enough with him. Jason just  _ can’t _ trust us yet. The trauma he’s gone through... it leaves a mark.”

Dick does know. But, somehow, he still thought it would be different. He and Bruce aren’t going to hurt Jason; they are all in the same pack now, and they are  _ Batman and Robin. _ Seeing Jason so obviously afraid, begging Dick to teach him how to—Dick shudders and burrows deeper into Bruce’s side. 

“But he knows now, right? Packs don’t—we don’t do stuff like that, to each other.” 

Dick’s voice is so hopeful; Bruce hates to disillusion him. 

“Not our pack, no.” 

There are plenty of villains out there, without costumes and aliases, that do more damage than the Rogues. Some of them aren’t even really villains, they’re just regular people doing bad things. Jason’s seen a lot of those people; they’re almost all he’s seen, and he doesn’t seem to realize there are people out there who don’t hurt other people.

Dick is fourteen, has been with Bruce on the streets for four years, but Bruce has still been keeping him from the worst of Gotham. Dick hasn’t wanted to see the worst of it. It’s easy for him to intervene in assaults on the streets, or help out with the Rogues. The Rogues are dangerous, flashy, and have grand plans. People get killed or hurt as collateral, but most of them aren’t in this just to hurt  _ people.  _

Jason’s breakdown is not how Bruce would have chosen to introduce Dick into understanding the damage that regular, not criminally insane, people inflict on others. Jason’s terror and painful expectations, even in the face of safety, are jarring. This is the first time Dick’s been faced with the long-term consequences, faced with what happens to the people once Batman and Robin get them to safety. It’s the first time he’s needed to face that for many people, the Rogues don’t scare them. Some people are simply afraid of other people.

Dick is not going to be content to be kept out of anything, anymore. He needs to help people, and seeing Jason’s deep fear has shaken him more than Ivy bringing down a building, more than watching Joker holding a child hostage, more than watching Two-Face flip a coin with lives on the line.

Dick isn’t capable of looking the other way. Bruce knows John and Mary Grayson instilled a strong sense of right and wrong in their son, and Robin is just giving him an opportunity to seek justice. Bruce has been so careful not to replace Dick’s parents that he doesn’t ever think about how much of Dick’s drive for justice, his sense of right and wrong, his willingness to help even at a personal cost, come from him. 

Dick’s need for their littlest pup to be safe, to not be afraid, is painfully obvious. There will be time, later, to talk about letting Dick into the darker cases. For now, Dick needs reassurances.

“Do you remember how you followed me around when you first came to live with me?”

Bruce can feel Dick nod.

“And you thought I was going to get rid of you for causing trouble?”

Another nod.

“When did you stop worrying? Was it the night we brought in Zucco?”

Dick shakes his head, thoughtful. “No. It got a lot easier...but no.” 

He pauses, still thinking. Then he speaks slowly, realizing the truth as he says it. “I just...I knew, after a while. You didn’t yell, and you never stayed angry for long. You told me you wanted me, all the time.” Dick cherished every one of those times. “You made an acrobatic studio for me, which you wouldn’t do if you were going to get rid of me. And then, you let me train, and come into Gotham with you.”

Dick twists, looking up at Bruce. “Is Jason going to come out with us, someday?”

Bruce doesn’t want to think about that. Bringing one of his pups out into Gotham was difficult enough, but both of them? He strokes Jason’s dark fur gently.

“Maybe. But my point was, it took time for you to get comfortable here, to trust me. Jason’s seen a lot of adults that can’t be trusted, probably even his parents.”

They both look down at the curled up pup.

“He made his den up against a wall, instead of on his bed,” Dick says eventually. “I didn’t understand, at first, but now…” he trails off. “He felt safer, more defensible.”

Bruce is silent.

“But we’re going to help him, right, Bruce? He’s eventually going to trust us?”

Bruce knows the scars trauma leaves on you. Dick’s trauma, similar to his own, was one incident marring a happy childhood, and it will follow them the rest of their lives. Jason didn’t seem to even have a happy childhood to recall, to help him realize he’s gotten somewhere safe. Jason’s never known the safety this pack is offering him, never been able to fully trust.

Bruce doesn’t want to lie to Dick. 

“I hope so,” is all he can say, running his hands through Jason’s fur.

Dick’s hand joins him, petting Jason.

“I think we can do it, Bruce. We just have to tell him  _ and _ show him. I remember what you  _ did  _ was just as important as what you  _ said.” _ Dick’s hope and faith have always lifted Bruce.

They sit in silence for another few minutes, listening to Jason breathe. Then, Dick shifts and curls up next to him. Bruce curls up around both of them, pleased to have his pack close and safe.

\---

When Dick turns sixteen, two years later, he passes on the mantle of Robin and Nightwing flies in Gotham.

**Author's Note:**

> There’s a scene somewhere after this one, before Thunderstorms (I'm nearly done!), where Jason calls Bruce Dad for the first time, and Bruce melts inside, because his baby pup is calling him Dad. Dick hears it and thinks “Yeah, that sounds nice” and realizes he can have another Dad without replacing the one who died, and starts calling Bruce Dad, and there’s so much softness. I'm trying to write it. I feel a strong desire to post in chronological order but Thunderstorms is basically done and Tim has so many feelings, I'm torn.


End file.
